Paris, Saturday, March 29

I didn't beat the bakers to the streets, but I had my first cup of coffee before anyone else. Jet lag be damned. The early morning light was already warm, and the scent of hyacinths floated on top of the breeze. It was seventy and sunny, and everyone had a spring in their step. It was the kind of day you remember as the first day you didn't need a sweater. The kind of day when you see more smiles than boots. The kind of day that makes you want to dip your toes in the fountain.

We tell stories with words and pictures. Sometimes both.

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